Maybe For A Drink
by UltraRecycloVegetarian
Summary: At 18, Sam Manson is already engaged to the wealthy Elliot Williams. She has everything she could ever dream of. But what she really wants to be a flapper, to live in speakeasies and drink until she aches. It doesn't help that she falls in love with a ghost. Add in a goody two-shoes cousin, a possibly jealous best friend, and a shady ghost singer, and she's got trouble. {1920's AU}
1. Chapter 1

_Full Summary (because I had to rearrange and shorten it to fit FF's rules): At 18, Samantha Manson is already engaged to the wealthy Elliot Williams. She's got everything she could ever dream of. Well, not exactly. Sam would much rather live the life of a flapper, living in speakeasies and drinking until she aches. But she might've bitten off more than she can chew when she finds herself infatuated with the mysterious Phantom, who won't even spare her a glance._

_Paulina Sanchez has been given a second chance. She's been sent to live with her aunt's family, in order to prove herself. This is where she can paint a new picture of herself. She can leave all the lies of her past life, and start a new one here. She'll be innocent, sweet, and a perfect Maid of Honor to Sam. But her plan isn't fulfilled so quickly, when her past is still haunting her and she finds out that Amity has its own set of secrets._

_Ember McLain knows she isn't a good person. She knows she could do better if she tried. But what did it matter? People would always judge her simply because she's a ghost, so she shouldn't bother. Besides, singing at the Green Mill is good enough. So when a human girl tries to worm her way into her life, Ember isn't pleased. But she realizes that she's been stereotyped so long she's forgotten to look beyond the surface of others. And boy, do they surprise her._

* * *

_"Long live the Reckless and the Brave,_

_I don't think I wanna be saved,_

_My song has not been sung,_

_So long live us,"_

**Samantha Manson** leaned against the grimy brick wall, then thought better of it and straightened back up. She wouldn't want her dress to get ruined.

"So?" The girl whispered to the boy next to her. Even though there wasn't really any point in whispering, seeing that he could barely hear her over the music that seemed to be floating through the wall. "Are we getting in?"

**Dash Baxter**, also known as her best friend, grinned back at her, "Let me work my magic, Sammy," his comment earned him a punch in the arm.

"Don't _ever_ call me Sammy." She hissed.

**Valerie Grey**, the girl on his other side, and Sam's _other_ best friend, rolled her eyes. "If you two are done flirting, we should go in now." She pushed open the metal door, revealing the bright lights and loud music of Chicago's most controversial speakeasy.

The Green Mill.

Also known as the home of the most scandalous flappers and ruthless mobsters.

"H-how'd you get in?" Dash cemented himself outside the door until Sam pushed him in.

"Who cares?" She grinned and took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom, the exhilaration, and the overall rebellion of it all. "This place looks amazing!"

"Gotta agree with ya on that one," Valerie replied as she began to make her way to the bar, no surprise there.

Sam was determined to have a fun night. Val's treat, supposedly. Kiss a stranger, drink an illegal martini, and, most importantly, dance.

After all, she _was_ set to get married next month.

**Elliot Williams** was, in short, every debutante girl's dream. Smart, rich, handsome, the list could go on and on.

But Sam didn't want to be his wife. In fact, the thought of getting married at eighteen sickened her. She was a free woman! She could do whatever she wanted! And her mother must've sensed that, because she called Sam's annoyingly perfect cousin up all the way from the south to "help with the wedding preparations". Her mother insisted she marry Elliot before the opportunity slipped away.

Just like her grand opportunity was slipping away now.

"So," Sam turned to Dash as he casually leaned next to her, pulling out a lighter. She eyed it curiously. "I didn't know you smoked," she crossed her arms at him.

Dash gave her a lopsided grin that seemed to make all the girls swoon. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Shut up, you can't pull off the mysterious aura with me."

"Works on other girls."

"Well," Sam winked, "I'm not like other girls."

"Ooh, getting saucy in our knee-length dress, are we?" he teased.

"What?" she gave him a look of confusion before taking a minute to study the girls around her, and a red blush began creeping up her cheeks. He was right. Sam looked like dandelion in a field of roses. Or, more accurately, a prude in a crowd full of fun girls. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?" she hissed at Dash.

He simply shrugged in response. "I thought you already knew about the dress code." He took a puff of his cigarette, which made Sam cough, as much as she tried to hide it.

_Maybe I'm not fit for this place after all..._

In an attempt to show Dash that she was angry at him, Sam marched away to find Val.

And, she had to admit, her best friend was fitting in more on her first day there that Sam would if she spent a lifetime there.

Not that her mother would allow it.

But, then again, she wasn't allowing Sam to come here in the first place.

She slid in next to Valerie on a seat, who was currently flirting with some guy that looked twice her age.

And, honestly, he didn't seem as interested in her as he did in her dress. Re: what was _under_ her dress. Sam was a little bothered that she had to _wait_ for Valerie's attention. For goodness sake, did Valerie actually want to leave her friend alone like that? After an agonizing minute the brunette turned to Sam, grinning. "So, what do you think? Was it all I said it was and more?"

"No," Sam huffed. "You didn't tell me that I should've changed after coming home from The Academy."

(Yes, Sam's parents were so wealthy they sent her to a school simply titled 'The Academy'.)

"Well," Valerie stifled a giggle under Sam's glare, "I assumed that went without saying."

"Shut up," Sam said for the second time in ten minutes, playfully punching her friend's arm. She'd wanted to hit Val harder, though. _Her_ dress was perfectly on point. Their brewing argument was broken up by a young man that walked out in front of them, presumably the bartender.

**Tucker Foley** wasn't exactly what you would call handsome, but he wasn't too sore on the eyes, either. "So, can I get you ladies anything to drink?" he flashed them a grin. Valerie smiled back, her eyes saw any attention as good attention.

She ordered something for the two of them, but Sam was too busy panicking internally. A drink? What if someone she knew was here? What if they saw her? What if Valerie and her careless mouth told her mother? What if she still smelt like alcohol when she got home? What if-?

But Sam didn't have time to ponder these questions, since the man came back and pushed a glass in front of her. "Two dry martinis, you two need anything else?"

"Hmm," Valerie picked up her martini and took a gulp, as if she'd been coming her for years and knew just how much to drink.

Sam did the same, and almost choked. What _was_ this stuff?! It burned her throat and she couldn't imagine why people would go breaking the law for something so bitter.

Tucker stared at her for a moment. "I thought you were new here 'cause of the dress but I didn't want to be rude, but _man_, are you really new here!" he burst out laughing.

Sam shot him a glare that made him pipe down immediately. He had no right to be in her business! She could choke on whatever she wanted.

Well, not like _that._

"Who are _you_, anyway?" she demanded.

"Tucker Foley. That's T.F., as in _Too Fine_," he winked at her and this time she really did choke.

Valerie shot her a sideways glance and giggled. "I'm Valerie, and the bitchy one is Sam."

"Well, you two should plan on stickin' around for the show. Ember's pretty talented, if I do say so myself."

"Ember?" Sam questioned. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face next to it.

Then something dawned on her. This was an illegal speakeasy. With illegal drinks. And that meant...it would have ghosts. They weren't _technically_ illegal, but everyone treated 'em like they were. She gulped. She'd always been told to stay away from ghosts, that they were scum and had nothing better to do than invade the human world.

And that's when she realized where she'd heard the name before. Her mother, always updated on the latest gossip, made sure to tell Sam about how absolutely shameless and un-ladylike this girl was, painting her face with streaks of eyeliner, supposedly hypnotizing innocent people, going around singing in speakeasies. The quality of her voice was beyond the matter.

Anyway, it wasn't like Sam hadn't seen ghosts before. She had, while she was out and about. But she tried not to look their way. Frankly, she didn't like the look of them, with their pale skin and brightly-colored hair. It was unnatural. The idea of watching one sing sent a shiver through her body. She felt nervous, excited, and maybe a bit scared. She wasn't sure what to expect.

While she had been contemplating about whether to stay or not, Tucker and Valerie had striked up a decent conversation before he had to tend to other customers.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Dash had crept up behind her, making Sam jump in her seat.

She composed herself quickly, though. "Me? Scared? Not at all," She grinned hesitantly.

"You definitely are," Val turned around to join the conversation. "And you haven't even seen the band yet," she chuckled.

"Oh yeah? And what's so special about them?"

"Well, let's just say they're nothing like what you're used to."

* * *

_ooooh new story yay! i've actually written a couple chapters already for this and i know where it's going and everything. this is basically a 1920's AU where instead of how there was like a lot of controversy surrounding black people, it's ghosts. plus i think i may change the title. so yeah i'm really excited and i'll try to update this every friday!_

_qotd: if you could go back to any time period, which one would it be?_

_aotd: i'd prob go to the fifties since all of america's major problems are over and there are bikers and diners and elvis and yeah haha_

_-Maira_


	2. Chapter 2

_"These children learn from_

_cigarette burns,_

_fast cars,_

_fast women,_

_and cheap drinks."_

**Ember McLain **didn't hate singing. Of course not. It was her talent. Her obsession. The thing she lived for.

Well, you get what she means.

But at times, she really hated _where_ she sang. "Amity's most famous speakeasy", The Green Mill. One was those times was tonight.

"Skulker! Where'd ya put my liner?" she yelled.

"Why do you asssume that _I_ put it somewhere?"

The blue-haired ghost groaned and put her head down on the dingy dresser she was sitting in front of. "Well, can't really put on a show without makeup, can I?"

"Ask Phantom!"

"Like he'll listen," she scoffed. She looked around for any sign of their piano player, but found nothing. She finally resigned herself to fixing her bob in the mirror, making sure her bangs didn't completely cover her face.

Suddenly, a black tube hit the back of her head. "Hey!" she picked it up, and upon further inspection, realized it was her eyeliner.

"Found it behind the bar. You're welcome," Tucker walked backstage, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Get out, ya know that only the band's supposed to be back here," she scolded playfully, only half serious.

"Hey, you should be glad that I can tolerate you filthy ghosts," he joked.

"What's this I hear about filthy ghosts?" A deeper voice joined them.

"They're talking about you, obviously," Skulker teased.

"C'mon, we all know who the best is in this band. The mysterious devil Phantom!" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Everyone burst out laughing at his tone.

"Anyway, I came back here for another reason, _besides_ delivering Ember's liner." Tucker said.

"Which is?" Ember had popped the cap off, and started making the thick streaks around her eyes that she was known for.

"Boss said he's comin'."

To be honest, Ember absolutely hated him. If she didn't love singing so much she would've never gotten the job once she met the guy. He was sleazy, deceiving, but powerful. That's what irked her the most.

"Shit," Skulker said under his breath.

"He's not _that_ bad," Phantom said, but they all knew he was lying.

"He isn't here _yet_, so stop defending him," Ember chuckled. "When?" she turned her attention back to Tucker.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Tonight, tomorrow, whenever, all I'm saying is be ready," the bartender began to walk back out before Skulker called,

"Hey! Any chance he's bringin' his girl?"

"You pig!" Ember and Phantom burst out laughing as she hit Skulker upside the head, but she couldn't help but lock eyes with a certain silver-haired man.

**Phantom **was an odd kind of guy, someone who didn't seem like he belonged in the back of a speakeasy. Sure, he was hot, but she could say that about a number of people. He was loud but reserved. Friendly but cold. Deadly but heroic.

He was, in short, hard to explain.

But they all had something in common. Ember, Skulker, Phantom, and even Tucker.

They all had nothing but each other.

Maybe that's why Ember never really left.

* * *

"You suck the fun out of everything!"

"Excuse me? It's almost 3! IN THE MORNING!"

Sam yawned, stumbling between her friends as they argued. Frankly, she couldn't tell who was who.

She'd had a fun night. Made fun with alcohol, but still fun nonetheless. The drink was actually pretty good after a couple sips.

The band of ghosts was certainly a surprise, though. Surprisingly good. The girl's -Amber's?- voice was beautiful. She wanted to walk right up to stage so she could hear her better.

Thank goodness she didn't. Or maybe she did. Sam can't really remember.

"So, did _you _have fun?" Dash poked her side.

Sam giggled. "Yeah."

"And you do realize that you have to crawl into your window without making a sound?" Valerie asked.

"She's drunk," Dash deadpanned. "We'll have to help her in there."

"Are you kidding me?! You'll make so much noise Mrs. Manson will find us for sure!"

Me? Look who's talking!"

"Guys, I can totally goinmyhousealone..." the last few words had slurred together, despite Sam's best intention for them not to.

"Well, our houses are just around the corner. Don't worry."

In a few minutes time they reached the Manson residence, and it took another few minutes to walk across the perfectly-manicured lawn to get to the back of the house, where Sam's window was.

"Okay, so," Dash took a moment to think of a plan of action. "Val and I'll boost you into your window, but it's up to you to open it and get inside."

Sam swayed into his arms. "Okay!"

He looked at her for a moment and shook his head, sharing a smirk with Valerie. "On second thought, I'll go up there first and open the window."

"Soundss good."

It took Dash about 3 seconds to climb up her house, obvious that he'd done it before. He clicked open the window, and that's when he realized someone was in Sam's room.

"Shit! Someone's in there!" his panicked whisper floated down to the girls, and Valerie immediately tacked Sam into one of the rose bushes.

"Ow! There are thorns in here!"

"Shut up, unless you wanna get caught!"

Dash, on the other hand, had opted to slide over to the absolute edge of the windowsill, being able to hear the woman inside.

"So, she'll be here tomorrow afternoon? That's absolutely swell!" Sam's mother clicked the phone off. "I suppose Sammikins is in the bathroom."

Dash knew it was a good idea for Sam to leave the bathroom light on before she snuck out.

Pamela pushed open the curtains, almost knocking the blond boy off the sill. "Funny, I don't remember the window being open before..." she mused.

_Fuck, this is it. This is where we get caught._

"Oh well," she stuck her head out the window slightly, but the surprise of it made Dash completely lose his balance.

He tumbled into the rose bush, landing on two glitzy, but disheveled, girls.

"Watch it, will ya?" Valerie jabbed her elbow into Dash's side.

"Stop poking me!"

"Move your hands!"

Move _your_ hands!"

"I swear to God she is going to see us!"

"And hear!"

"SHHHH!"

The woman above them let out a small shriek, and evaluated the ground undeneath her. "Raccoons..."

The trio sighed in relief.

Dash waited a few minutes until he was absolutely sure that she'd left, and climbed out again.

"Remind me _why_ you pushed me into a rose bush?" Sam demanded, standing steady.

Valerie shrugged. "Well, looks like it knocked some of the alcohol out of ya," she grinned.

"Guys, seriously, I need to get home."

"Alright, alright."

Valerie and Dash made a base out of their hands, and they raised them almost immediately after Sam stepped on them, pushing off and climbing into her window.

"Well, see ya two," she yawned and looked back down at them. "Now, scram 'fore my mother comes back," she smirked.

"Bye Sam!"

"See ya!"

Sam lay down on her bed, barely slipping out of her dress and not bothering to wash off her makeup.

Then she realized her goody-two shoes cousin was supposed to come tomorrow.

Which made her want to go to sleep and never wake up again.

* * *

_heyy so i updated on time yay! haha this was a boring filler chapter but i wanted y'all to get an idea about what each character's relations are to each other. have i got you thinking about who their boss is? no? okay. speaking of okay did anyone see The Fault in our Stars? i shall see it Sunday and im real excited c: anyway, next chapter will have Paulina. if you read this entire thing, then why not take an extra minute to review, right?_

_-Maira_


	3. Chapter 3

_"I didn't know I was lonely 'till I saw your face,_

_I wanna get better!_

_I didn't know I was broken 'till I wanted to change,"_

**Paulina Sanchez **had been worrying the entire train ride. She was probably getting horrible zits. Disoriented by the mere thought, she quickly pulled a compact out of her bag and studied her face, sighing in relief when she found not one pimple in sight.

But that didn't stop her anxiety.

_Alright, Paulina, breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in, out..._

She relaxed a little, settling back into her seat. Once more, she ran through the introduction she was supposed to give and the image she was supposed to paint herself as to her aunt's family. Frankly, she'd forgotten her daughter's -the bride's- name. Was it Sally? Sarah?

Samantha. Right.

Paulina was going to start fresh. This was her second chance. Nobody in Illinois knew about what had happened in Georgia, and nobody was going to. The old Paulina was gone. The new and improved Paulina was here to take her place, just in time for Sam's wedding.

The one that wore appropriate-length lacey pink dresses and wouldn't even think of bobbing her hair.

The one that knew her body was a thing to be guarded, and could plan a wedding without a hitch.

The one that had never even heard of speakeasies and cared more about her studies than boys.

But most importantly, the one that had no secrets.

Only bad girls kept secrets, and Paulina was no longer one of them.

* * *

**Paulina Sanchez** felt odd being treated with such respect. Sure, Paulina had more money than she could shake a stick at, but she had spent it on short dresses and cakey makeup, not sparkling glasses of white champagne and fancy limos.

"Almost there, ma'am."

_Finally!_ Paulina thought. She smoothed down the delicate satin roses on her dress once more, checked her makeup to make sure it made her face glow, and tugged at the ends of her short hair like the simple gesture would make them grow. If only.

It only took a few moments for them to arrive at the Manson mansion, and Paulina whole-heartedly believed that the smell of her sweat was overpowering her perfume.

"Oh, Paulina! It's so wonderful to see you again!" Her aunt Pamela opened the door, grabbing her by the shoulders. "My, look at that. You've grown," she studied Paulina long enough that it was starting to make her feel uncomfortable. "Well, come in!" she ushered Paulina inside of the grand foyer, where the girl took the liberty to climb the steps, admiring the artwork on the walls.

"Original Monet, y'know," Pamela winked at her as she passed Paulina on the way up. "Samantha, darling, your cousin is here!" she called.

Paulina straightened herself up and put on a winning smile, only to come up the stairs and see a brooding teenage girl on the couch.

_Does Sam have a younger sister that I forgot about?_ Paulina thought. She then realized that if Sam did, then she hadn't brought her a present. Perfect, another thing for her to worry about.

"Nice to meet you!" Paulina greeted her warmly nonetheless, sitting down next to her and waiting for the bride-to-be to bounce into the living room.

"I'm sorry, Samantha's been feeling sick today. I don't know what's gotten into her," Pamela sent her daughter a glare before walking into the kitchen. "You two chit-chat, I'll be back in just a minute."

"Sam?" Paulina couldn't help but spit her name out in disbelief. Had it really been _that_ long since they'd seen each other?

"Yeah," the girl eyed her suspiciously, which made Paulina think she _had_ blemished her face with worry. "Nice to see you again, Paulina," it was obvious that Sam wasn't very pleased.

Sam already disliked Paulina and she hadn't even been in her house for ten minutes.

This was going to be a very long month.

* * *

**Sam Manson** didn't _dislike _Paulina, per se. She was okay looking, with thick, dark hair that was almost to her shoulders (but not quite), large sparkling eyes, and a toned body. In short, she was the complete opposite of Sam, right down to the skin tone.

How were they related, again?

And not to mention she was absolutely glowing, with her perfect makeup and her perfect innocent look and she was just per-

_Agh!_

If this was what her wedding was riding on, Sam might as well do herself a favor and jump off a bridge now. Speaking of jumping, had Dash and Valerie gotten home okay last night? Had their parents noticed? Well, Val's father is practically nonexistant since he's always working, but Dash's parents are almost as bad as Sam's mother. Almost.

She ought'a pay them a visit. But her eyes drifted to the girl sitting next to her, with her hands folded in her lap, looking around at the walls. Sam decided it wasn't worth sitting with her.

"Um, I have to go upstairs," she informed Paulina. "But you can stay down here."

Did she feel bad? A little. But really, how was she supposed to entertain her cousin? They were totally different. She would die of shock if Paulina had ever even _heard_ of a flapper.

Sam walked into her room and put on a swipe of lipstick before jumping out the window with a bit of difficulty. She wasn't one to pull stunts like this, but lately she'd been feeling a bit...restless. So she'd made quite a few midnight trips to Dash's house lately, when she couldn't sleep. Not that she slept with _him_, mind you. He was like a brother.

Sam figured she'd have about fifteen minutes before her mother came looking for her, which was just enough time to check in on her friends.

* * *

**Valerie Grey **had some mixed feeling towards her best friend. She loved her, no doubt. Sam was fun, pretty, clever, and just a little naive. And those were the exact reasons she envied her. _Everyone_ liked Sam. Valerie was simply her shadow, the boring opening that everyone had to get through if they wanted to see the show they really came for. It got tiring. She wanted to be known as something other than Sam's best friend.

She didn't have anyone to voice her troubles too either, because her father was barely home and her mother didn't pay her any attention. Anyone she befriended at school was through Sam, and Dash was in love with her. It made Valerie's blood boil to watch them flirt. Not because _she_ was in love with Dash (well, maybe), but would it be so bad if he chose to flirt with Val? After all, what did Sam have that she didn't?

Oh, that's right. Elliot. Every girl's dream. If Sam's natural charm didn't appeal to you, her ability to snag someone so desireable sure would. Dash knew that, too. He knew Sam was engaged. So why did he bother? Valerie was clueless. Just once, she wanted someone to like her.

The brunette's thoughts were interrupted with a sharp knock at her door, followed by "open up, I don't have much time!" She knew the voice all too well.

"Sam?" Valerie opened the door to reveal said best friend, slightly out of breath but still beautiful. _As always._

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she stepped inside, walking to the living room and plopping down like it was her own house.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Val questioned before following her and sitting across from her.

"Because...y'know..." she laughed. "We were all pretty much blackout drunk last night. I _still_ have a headache." Sam whined.

Valerie chuckled. "Duh, bonehead. It's called a hangover. Besides, I'm used to it. Don't worry," she smiled.

See? Even if Valerie _tried_ to hate Sam, she couldn't. She was so genuine and she really did care about her friends.

"Oh, and I gotta tell ya. My cousin's here," When she was met with a blank stare, Sam elaborated. "Y'know, my 'wedding planner'."

"Oh." Val nodded. A good chunk of their Friday night had been spent speculating on what said cousin would be like. "What's so bad 'bout her?" her friend raised an eyebrow.

"She's a total copy of my witchy mom!" Sam cried. "Total do-gooder. She's too pretty and her makeup is too pink."

"Oh, you poor thing," Valerie replied sarcastically.

"I'm serious. I can't stand her."

"Guess I'll have to meet her then. Name?"

"Paulina. It even _sounds_ like- wait!" Sam's eyes widened in panic. Her tone changed so suddenly that Valerie jumped.

"What?!"

"Shit, I've gotta get home! My mom's gonna kill me," Sam groaned, already halfway out the door.

Valerie didn't bother following her. She laughed slightly. "Good luck with Miss Goody-Two-Shoes!"

* * *

**Paulina Sanchez **wanted to die. She'd already made a bad impression on the person she was supposed to become friends. To be fair though, Sam had been colder than anticipated. But Paulina didn't really have a choice than to kiss up to the little brat, did she? Even if she'd abruptly gotten up without an excuse.

"Where did Sammy run off to?" Pamela entered the living room, a slight edge to her voice.

Paulina straightened up and put on a smile. "She claimed she wasn't feeling well," she lied. "She went to lie down."

Pamela frowned.

"It's no problem though, really!" Paulina reassured her. "I understand," the last thing she wanted was to stir up trouble in their family and make Sam hate her even more.

"I can't believe she would do that! She usually has very nice manners," Pamela said, walking over to her niece and offering her some soda. "Anyway, how was your trip?" she sat on the couch next to her and crossed her legs.

"It was fine, thank you." Paulina smiled politely and took a sip of her drink. Time to see if she could get on at least _one_ person's good side.

"Good to hear. Illinois must be so dreary compared to Georgia." Pamela let out a dainty laugh.

_The drearier, the better. _Paulina thought to herself. "Oh no, I like it here."

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, she decided to move to a topic they both wanted to talk about. "Have you started preparing for Sam's wedding?"

Pamela's eyes lit up. "Of course! These things take months, y'know," she said that as if Paulina had never heard of a wedding.

"They do," she bit back a sarcastic reply and nodded. "What exactly will you need my help on?"

"Oh, basic things. Catering, decorations, general host duties. I also figured you'll help me design the dresses since you're more acquainted with Sam's taste, being the same age."

Paulina's eyes widened, especially at the fact that Pamela considered her at the same level as her daughter. _As if._ She knew Sam's type. She probably complained all the time to her rich privileged friends about how horrid her rich privileged life was. In other words, she couldn't appreciate anything. "Hopefully."

Just then, someone came pounding down the steps.

"I'm here!" Sam appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking slightly disheveled.

"_Samantha!_ I can't believe you left our guest alone! That is certainly not how I raised you. I'm quite disappointed," Pamela scolded.

"Sorry, Mom," Sam replied in a tone that implied that she wasn't sorry at all. She sat down next to Pamela, but the woman elbowed her subtly.

"Go sit with Paulina!" she hissed. Paulina wasn't sure if she was meant to hear that or not.

Sam sighed slightly but obeyed, going to sit on the couch with Paulina and deliberately leaving a gap between them.

However, Paulina didn't notice this as she eyed her cousin's slightly pink cheeks and uneven breathing, as if she'd just been sprinting.

_Maybe she's not as bland as I thought she was..._

* * *

_OHMYGOSH! i have totally forgotten about FF i'm so sorry guys ;-; if anyone actually remembers this story ill prob die of shock, haha. tbh i just got busy with other stuff, y'know? anyway i'll probably only continue this story for now and maybe start a little one-shot collection about the ghosts. ack sorry, you readers couldn't care less haha. anyway, leave a review so I don't forget to update again! c; but really, i wanna know what you guys thought. i mainly just revised this chap, but does it still flow with the first two chapters? heads up, the next chapter we'll visit the Green Mill again and more importantly, Ember._

_-Maira_


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